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“Who the hell are you?”

Deep. Controlled. Dangerous.

Damini straightened immediately.

Confidence mode activated.

She walked two steps closer, completely ignoring the tension thickening the room.

“Hello,” she announced brightly. “I am Damini.”

Inder didn’t move.

Didn’t blink.

Didn’t soften.

His gaze flicked to Yash.

“Care to explain?”

“I tried to stop her,” Yash muttered defensively.

“He did. I ignored him.” Damini waved a hand dismissively. 

Inder’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“You have five seconds,” he said coldly. “To explain why you are in my private chambers.”

Most people would shrink under that tone.

Damini tilted her head instead.

“You don’t look like someone who enjoys counting.”

Yash inhaled sharply.

Inder’s grip tightened around his glass.

“I don’t repeat myself.”

“And I don’t waste time,” she shot back smoothly.

The audacity.

The absolute audacity.

Inder slowly rose to his full height.

He was taller than she expected.

Broader.

Intimidating.

He took a step toward her.

“Who let you in?”

She smiled sweetly.

“The door.”

Yash pressed a hand over his face.

Inder stopped just a foot away from her.

Up close, his anger was palpable.

“You have exactly one reason to still be standing here.”

Damini looked straight into his eyes.

Not flinching.

Not intimidated.

Curious.

Assessing.

Yes, she thought. Definitely emotionally damaged royal heir.

Perfect.

“I heard,” she began calmly, “that your bride ran away with your brother.”

Yash closed his eyes.

Inder went very still.

“That,” he said dangerously, “is none of your concern.”

“Actually,” she corrected lightly, “it might be.”

His jaw hardened.

“And how is that?”

She clasped her hands behind her back casually, rocking slightly on her heels.

“Because I also heard,” she continued, “that if you are not married before midnight tomorrow… you lose everything.”

The air shifted.

Inder’s eyes darkened.

“How do you know that?”

“Palaces talk.” She shrugged.

Silence.

Thick. Tense.

Inder studied her now.

Not just as an intruder.

But as a variable.

“Who sent you?” He asked sharply.

“No one.”

“Vaishali?”

“The evil stepmother? Please. I have standards.” She made a face. 

Yash choked on a laugh.

Inder did not.

“Then what do you want?”

Finally.!

The real question.

Damini’s eyes sparkled.

She took a small step closer.

Close enough to feel the heat radiating from him.

“I want,” she said clearly, “to make you an offer.”

Inder’s brows drew together.

“An offer?”

“Yes.”

She inhaled dramatically.

“You need a bride.”

Yash’s eyes widened.

Inder went completely still.

“And?” He asked flatly.

She lifted her chin.

“I am available.”

Silence exploded in the room.

Yash stared at her.

Inder stared at her.

The whisky glass in Inder’s hand lowered slowly.

“Get out,” he said quietly.

But there was something new in his eyes now.

Not just anger.

Not just humiliation.

Curiosity.

Damini smiled slowly.

“No.”

And just like that—

The storm had found its match.

Inder stared at her as if she had just declared war.

“Get. Out.” His voice was low. Lethal.

“You haven’t even heard my proposal.” Damini folded her arms calmly. 

“There is no proposal,” he snapped. “There is insanity.”

“Okay… I clearly missed something. Did she just volunteer to marry you out of nowhere?” Yash finally found his voice. 

“Yes,” Damini said brightly.

“No,” Inder said at the same time.

“See? We already have communication issues. We must fix that before marriage.” She pointed at him. 

Inder’s temper snapped.

“This is not a joke!” He thundered.

For a moment, the force of his anger hit her full on.

But she didn’t retreat.

She stepped closer instead.

“I know it’s not,” she said, her tone softening slightly. “Your brother played you. Your stepmother cornered you. Tomorrow at midnight, you lose the company you built.”

Silence.

Yash glanced between them, stunned at how accurately she had summed it up.

“And you think you can solve that?” Inder’s jaw tightened. 

“Yes.”

“How?”

“By marrying you.”

The simplicity of her answer almost made Yash laugh in disbelief.

“Do you even understand what you are suggesting?” Inder exhaled slowly, dangerously. 

“Yes,” she replied calmly. “A legal marriage before midnight. Tradition satisfied. Succession secured. Mihir, furious. Vaishali, defeated. You retain control.”

She counted on her fingers as she spoke.

“Benefits: one, you keep Ranawat Enterprises. Two, you humiliate your brother publicly without lifting a finger. Three, you gain a wife who doesn’t faint at drama.”

“That last one seems accurate.” Yash muttered.

Inder shot him a look before turning back to her.

“And what,” he asked coldly, “do you get out of this?”

There it was.

The real question.

Damini didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, she walked slowly toward the large window, glancing out at the dark palace grounds as if considering something far more complex than his question.

Yash exchanged a confused look with Inder.

She turned back after a moment.

“That,” she said lightly, “is my concern.”

“I don’t enter deals without knowing the other party’s interest.” Inder’s eyes hardened. 

She smiled faintly. Not playful this time. Calculated.

“You think this is a deal?”

“It’s exactly that.”

“Then let’s call it… an alignment of circumstances.”

“Answer the question.”

Her gaze met his directly.

Fearless.

“You need a wife before midnight tomorrow,” she said evenly. “I need… change.”

“Change?” He repeated skeptically.

“Yes.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means I don’t make decisions out of boredom. And I don’t insert myself into chaos without a reason.” She shrugged slightly.

“That doesn’t clarify anything.” Yash frowned. 

“It’s not meant to.”

Inder stepped closer.

“You expect me to marry a complete stranger without knowing what she wants from me?”

She tilted her head.

“Your bride ditched you at the last moment. So, it clearly was no love match. You were ready to bind yourself to someone you don’t love. Now what’s stopping you?”

His jaw tightened.

“That’s different.”

“Is it?” She asked softly.

The air between them thickened.

Inder studied her carefully now.

She wasn’t nervous.

Wasn’t overeager.

Wasn’t calculating in the obvious way Purvi had been.

There was no desperation in her posture. No greed in her expression.

Just certainty.

“And suppose,” he said quietly, “I marry you. What happens after?”

She gave him a small, mysterious smile.

“After midnight tomorrow,” she said, “you will still have your company.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I know.”

“This is the vaguest negotiation I have ever witnessed.” Yash looked between them. 

Damini ignored him.

“Let’s just say,” she continued calmly, “I don’t need your money. I don’t need your protection. And I certainly don’t need your name to survive.”

That made Inder pause.

There was something in her tone.

Truth.

Then why?

He couldn’t figure her out.

And that unsettled him.

“You are either very brave,” he said slowly, “or very foolish.”

“Or,” she replied, eyes glinting, “very aware.”

Silence fell again.

She took a step closer — close enough that he could see the steady rhythm of her breathing.

“I am offering you an exit from a trap,” she said quietly. “You don’t have to trust my motives. You only have to trust that I am not your enemy.”

“She’s good.” Yash muttered under his breath.

Inder didn’t respond.

He was too busy trying to read the girl standing in front of him.

And failing.

For the first time that night—

He wasn’t certain he was the sharpest mind in the room.

And that intrigued him more than he wanted to admit.

His gaze lowered unconsciously.

Fair skin — not pale, but warm. Like satin under lamplight. Smooth. Almost luminous. Her features were delicate but bold. Expressive eyes. Lips that curved like she knew something the world didn’t.

She was outrageously beautiful.

He shouldn’t be noticing that.

Especially now.

He forced his gaze back to her face.

“This is absurd,” he said.

“Is it?” She countered immediately. “You were ready to marry a woman you didn’t love to satisfy a stupid age old clause..”

“She’s not entirely wrong.” Yash looked at Inder.

“Whose side are you on?” Inder muttered.

“Currently? Entertainment.”

Damini clasped her hands behind her back again.

“Look,” she said more practically now. “You don’t need romance. You need legality. I need… experience.”

“Experience?” Inder narrowed his eyes. 

“Yes. Adventure. Royal scandal. Possibly dramatic character development.”

He stared at her.

“You are insane.”

“Functionally.”

“Do you even know me?”

“No,” she said cheerfully. “But I know villains when I see them. And you are not one.”

That caught him off guard.

“And how are you so sure?”

She stepped closer again — dangerously close.

“Because you are angry,” she said quietly. “Not evil.”

Something shifted in his expression.

Yash watched carefully now. This wasn’t random madness. She was reading him.

“You gain everything,” she continued. “Let’s just say, I gain a little something too from this. We both irritate the right people. After that… we can decide the rest.”

Inder folded his arms.

“And if I refuse?”

She smiled slowly.

“Then by tomorrow night, Mihir Ranawat becomes the heir.”

Silence.

Heavy. Crushing.

She tilted her head.

“Hot, brooding, betrayed prince… losing his kingdom because he was too proud to accept help from a slightly chaotic girl?” She sighed dramatically.

“That’s tragic writing.” Yash actually snorted.

Inder ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

“You don’t even know what you are walking into.”

She held his gaze steadily.

“Try me.”

The room went still.

For the first time since the disaster in the great hall—

Inder felt something unfamiliar.

Not defeat.

Not rage.

Possibility.

And that unsettled him far more than anything else.

“Give me one logical reason,” he said finally, voice low, “why I should trust you.”

Damini’s mischievous smile softened just a fraction.

“Because,” she said quietly, “I have nothing to gain from destroying you.”

And for some reason—

He believed her.

A/N

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